The early morning sun streamed through the silk curtains of Lianghua's bedroom, casting a soft golden light over the room. She stirred beneath the covers, a dull ache in her head—a reminder of the previous night at the bar. Slowly, she sat up, pressing her hand to her forehead. Fragments of laughter, Xiaole's excited chatter, and the faint echo of something else… him.
No matter how much she tried to focus on anything else, her thoughts inevitably returned to the mysterious man. His light blue, piercing eyes seemed to lock onto hers, as if he could see into her. She didn't know his name, but their brief encounter had left a mark she couldn't shake.
Lianghua rose from the bed, her bare feet touching the cold marble floor. She made her way across the room to her vanity and glanced at her reflection. Though her face was calm, her eyes betrayed the inner storm.
Who is he? Why can't I stop thinking about him?
Questions swirled in her mind, but no answers came. She dressed in a simple, elegant outfit—a fitted cream blouse and tailored black pants that tailored her figure perfectly. Her heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she descended the staircase of her mansion.
The house was vast, but somehow today it felt a bit hollow, lacking the vibrancy that usually filled her mornings. She paused by the front door, her hand lingering on the cool brass handle as her thoughts once again drifted back to the young man.
The day passed in a blur of meetings and paperwork, but Lianghua's thoughts remained distracted, her mind constantly drifting back to the man with the piercing gaze.
Lianghua received a message from Xiaole.
"Feeling alive yet? Or is the hangover winning?"
Lianghua couldn't help but chuckle softly at the message, a moment of lightness breaking through her cloudy mood as she slowly responded back to Xiaole.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across her office, she decided to leave work early. The weight of her thoughts had grown too heavy, and she needed space to clear her mind.
She found herself walking aimlessly through the city, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. The streets were lively, filled with people hurrying home or out for the evening, but Lianghua felt disconnected from it all. She wandered until she found herself at a park a quiet, secluded space with a small pond and weeping willows swaying in the breeze.
Lianghua sat on a bench by the water, watching as the soft ripples distorted the reflection of the setting sun. The tranquility of the park offered a sense of peace, though it did little to quiet the disturbance inside her.
As she sat there, lost in her thoughts, she became aware of a presence nearby. She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat.
It was him—the young man.
He stood a few feet away, watching her with the same intense gaze that had unsettled her before. As he stood before her, tall and elegant, dressed in a sleek, charcoal gray suit that hugged his body perfectly. His dark hair fell neatly across his forehead, and his eyes—those piercing, mysterious eyes held hers with an intensity that made her heart race. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at her that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Liánghuá, wǒmen yòu jiànmiànle.- (Lianghua, we meet again.")
His voice was deep, smooth, with a hint of something elusive. He spoke in Mandarin, his words carrying a weight she couldn't quite place.
She blinked, heart pounding as she struggled to place him. There was something about him—had they met before? His voice, his face—it all seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't recall when or where.
"Shéi?" she replied cautiously, her voice soft yet steady. ("Who?")
He smiled, the corners of his lips lifting in a way that made her stomach flip.
"Duan Fengxi," he introduced himself, his eyes never leaving hers. "Dǔ Wénxī." ("Duan Fengxi.")
She repeated his name silently in her mind, her lips forming the syllables as if they held a secret. There was something about the way he said it, how the sound of his name rolled off his tongue. It was both alluring and unnerving.
"Duǎn xiānshēng, wǒ bù rènshì nǐ," she said carefully, feeling the need to stay guarded despite the strange pull he had on her. ("Mr. Duan, I don't know you.")
"Yet you feel like you do, don't you?"
He responded in flawless Mandarin, leaning just a little closer, his presence overwhelming.
Lianghua's breath caught in her throat. There was something hypnotic about him, a magnetism she couldn't ignore. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the bench as she fought to maintain composure.
"Nǐ de yìtú shì shénme?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, studying him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. ("What are your intentions?")
His gaze dropped to her lips for the briefest moment before meeting her eyes again, and Lianghua felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the weather.
The park, once peaceful and quiet, now felt charged with something electric. The air between them thickened with unspoken words, hidden meanings, and an undeniable attraction. Despite her initial caution, she found herself leaning in slightly, drawn by his mysterious charm.
"Zhè shì mìngyùn ma?" she whispered back, her voice barely audible, though every syllable felt heavy with meaning. ("Is it fate?")
His smile deepened, and the subtle seduction in his eyes made her heart race.
"Wǒmen bù yìng gāi zài zhèlǐ duì cǐ zhùzhòng. Háishì shuō, wǒmen de gùshì cái gāng kāishǐ?" he asked softly, stepping closer, his voice low, as though sharing a secret meant only for her. ("Should we dismiss this moment? Or perhaps, our story is just beginning?")
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Lianghua felt her pulse quicken again, and her thoughts were racing. There was a part of her that wanted to know more about this man—this stranger who spoke as if they had a past, as if he knew things about her that even she couldn't quite grasp.
But there was another part of her, the part that was cautious, that warned her to be careful, to tread lightly.
"Shuō xiàqù," she murmured, her voice laced with intrigue. ("Keep talking.")
Duan Fengxi's eyes darkened, and his lips parted slightly as if he had been waiting for her to say those words. He took a deliberate step closer, his polished shoes barely making a sound on the soft ground.
"Zhè shì zhǐshì yīgè kāishǐ, Liánghuá. Wǒ huì ràng nǐ míngbái de, dàn shì yǒuxiē shìqing bùnéng tài kuài." His voice dropped even lower, sending a shiver through her. ("This is only the beginning, Lianghua. I will make things clear to you, but some truths cannot come too quickly.")
As she looked into his eyes, Lianghua felt like she was falling into something deeper than she could have imagined. There was danger in his words, but there was also promise—of answers, of understanding, of something thrilling.
But what kind of man was Duan Fengxi? And why did he seem so intent on her, as if he had been waiting for this moment, for her? The fog in the park seemed to swirl around them, as though the world outside didn't exist, and all that mattered was the space between them, filled with questions and desire.
"Zhè shì shénme yàng de zhēnxiàng?" she asked, her voice steady but her heart pounding in her chest. ("What kind of truth?")
He looked at her for a long moment, and then his lips curved into a knowing smile.
"Wǒ huì ràng nǐ zhīdào, dàn xiànzài, wǒmen kěyǐ yǒu diǎn rěnài ma?" he whispered, his voice full of something unspoken. ("I will let you know, but for now, can we have a little patience?")
The seductive tension between them felt palpable, but before she could respond, he turned, casting one last glance over his shoulder.
"Zhōng wǔ hòu de tóngxìng," he said cryptically as he walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind swirling with more questions than answers. ("We will meet again after noon.")
As Duan Fengxi disappeared into the mist, Lianghua's thoughts were a whirlwind. Who was this man? What did he want from her?
And why did she find herself wanting to see him again, even if she wasn't sure if he was a blessing or a curse?
Her heart still racing, she whispered to herself in the quiet of the park.
"Tā shì shéi? Wǒ zhēn de xiǎng zhīdào." ("Who is he? I really want to know.")